Style Bubble

My Poupées russes moment

>>So I'm sitting at the Waterloo Eurostar terminal with about a tiny smidge of battery power on my iBook frantically typing away this post.  Oh s***, the battery runs out, they're calling out for my Eurostar train.  I board the train.  I rush into the toilets, armed with a charger and plug my laptop into the shaver plug like Xaver in the film Les Poupées russes.  Merde, there is no wireless connection on the train!  And now I'm at my hotel in Paris.  Back and forth between Paris and London is not new but Paris during fashion week is of course something else altogether.  Last season, just walking around the 'cool' parts of Paris, you could feel fashion vibes bouncing off everywhere and this time I shall hopefully be attending des défilés - just a few anyway.  As always, Style Bubble is on my mind and all the things that pop out to me will of course make an appearance here.  It also makes it a hell of a lot easier spotting things during Paris Fashion Week because like I said, there's something that smells like fashion in the air. 

Tight Prints

A lot of people have scorned the footless tights, and dumped them on the pile of castaway trends. I'm not really one of them as I do think of them as staples rather than trends but I am into footwear of another sort - yes Miss Trend Victim Susie is onto printed leggings - the wackier the print, the better.  However, I wear them in the unwackiest ways because frankly, most of the world is not quite ready for wacky layered over wacky.  Under simple shift dresses, apron dresses and trapezes all in blacks/whites/greys and there the leggings stand out and shine. 

KTZ graphic print leggings // Mr Freedom dollar print leggings

Schwipe chain print leggings // Topshop polka dot print leggings

My next victim are the David David print leggings which are now available at Dover Street Market along with his t-shirts and hoodies.  Hopefully by the end of summer, I can fold up the printed leggings and line them up on the carpet to make a pretty pretty pattern.  Those are the kind of things that make me happy happy.   

The girl finally gets her hair cut...

I'm sure you can guess from my photos that I don't cut my hair often.  It grows fast, tangles into a black sheath of messiness and generally I try not to poke it too much lest it does something frightening.  So on the rare occasion that I haul my black sheath into the hairdressers, I'm determined to make it something a little bit special.  You name those London salons, I've tried em'.  I'm not a loyal customer but rather like trying out a new restaurant every week, I've become a one-time connoisseur of salons.  I like good vibes and special touches.  So I was uber pleased to stumble into Pimps and Pinups based in, where else but the increasingly bustling Spitalfields.  No clinical white harsh bright lighting.  No plasmas playing wank music on MTV Dance.  It's thankfully un-corporate, and unpretentious about the place with its indie soundtrack, cushty distressed leather couch and a nice beverage to welcome you in - a glass of wine/beer if you need serious unwinding or the usual non-alcoholic stuff.  Opened by Australian cousins Simon and John Charrison, they have taken the best bits of their hairdressing experience to create what I think was a laid back, slightly quirky yet still professional salon.  The Hollywood-style lit up mirrors and the vintage barber chairs makes it a sort of contemporary retro interior.  My black mass of hair got taken care of wonderfully by a lovely guy called Jordan who, thank god, did not fall into the following categories of Product Pushers (the ones that make you come out of the salon laden with products you don't actuallly know how to use), Chatty Natters (the ones that chat relentlessly without paying too much attention to the hair they're cutting) and Silent Artists (the ones who completely ignore you and lull you into thinking they're concentrating really hard on your hair until you look up to find a tri-pronged mohawk).  The black mass on my hair is now sleek, sharp and totally acceptable in polite company.

I may have to stop my hairdress connoisseur-ing now as I've found my bi-annual hairdressing appointment.